


Committed to Memory

by Sorin



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), PWP, definitely smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 16:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20410723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorin/pseuds/Sorin
Summary: The Warrior of Light shares a much-needed moment with the love he thought he'd lost forever. (Spoilers for the end of 5.0!)





	Committed to Memory

**Author's Note:**

> me: man, it's been awhile since I've written anything, it'll probably take me forever to come up with something else
> 
> also me: twelve hours? seems legit.
> 
> I've noticed that the fandom has trended toward using second-person POV nowadays, so I've tried my hand at it. I don't really know that I prefer one over the other- what do you guys think? All of my work with the ambiguous WoL, at least from their perspective, is written in first-person.
> 
> I've also noticed y'all like the Exarch being with male Miqo'te. I aim to please. :D
> 
> please be gentle I haven't written smut in a literal age (or... you know... three years)
> 
> This story contains graphic sex between two guys, so if that's not your thing, you might wanna roll on outta here.

He is beautiful, gazing back at you bright-eyed and flushed in the dim light of your room, his lips slightly bruised and slightly parted. His robes are mussed and rumpled, his hair disheveled courtesy of your hands tangled in it… honestly, he looks _delectable._ You smile and flick one of your ears, swish your tail behind you as you lean closer, put one hand on either side of him as he leans against the wall by the bed. How long has it been, you wonder, that you’ve wanted him here like this? Weeks? Moons? _Years,_ perhaps? He had thought that surely he would have faded in your memory by now, but you know that such a thing could _never_ have happened. Far easier now, you think, learning the taste of his mouth and feeling the press of his body against yours, the way his arms wind around you and how he tips his chin and silently begs for more. As for you, you are certain _your_ hair is quite the mess as well, but all you care about is the way his eyes shine when he looks at you.

“Raha,” you breathe, and _ah, _the way he _smiles…_ there is very little you wouldn’t do to see that smile again and again. He is _everything_ you have wanted, everything you remember and more, and he breathes your name back as he rests his forehead against yours, breath coming quick and shallow. You smile back, nip at his lower lip and savor the hitch in his breath, press ever so slightly closer and relish the faint sound he makes as he rolls his hips just a little. He’s wound tight already and you’ve barely gotten started, but that’s well enough… the night is yet young, and you have him all to yourself for the duration. He enjoys being so close to you, that much is _very_ clear, and he brushes hot, open-mouthed kisses against your jaw and just beneath as he draws his hands down your back. You tip your head just a bit, heat rushing through you with each touch, then it’s your turn to gasp when he gently grabs your tail and tugs on it. His smile becomes a smirk, a flash of white teeth in the darkness, and then you are toppling onto the bed as he pounces on you and shoves you backward.

The look he gives you is nothing short of sultry, and your heart beats faster as he leans over you and braces himself with his arms on either side of your head- a marked swap of position, but one you are fervently in favor of. He kisses you again and once more for good measure, then returns to your neck, this time finding reaching it _much_ easier to find the spots you like. You vaguely remember back to his tent in Mor Dhona, the two of you tucked away inside and hidden from the rest of the world- for a little while, time seemed to serve you alone. That night hasn’t escaped your memory at all; no, you remember him best this way, playful and daring as he drives you out of your _mind._ He nips at your neck, sucks gently at your pulse point- he is careful not to leave a mark, but you know he will regardless- you’ll have plenty when all is said and done, and all of them neatly hidden beneath your armor. Well and truly, you can think of nothing better. His weight above you is as comforting as it is maddening, and you wind your arms around him and _pull,_ earning a sound of surprise as he drops on top of you with a soft grunt. You grin- that’s _much_ better- and roll him onto his back again before pulling him up, kneeling astride his thighs and pushing his robes up and over his head, thence gone from both of your memories as it falls heedlessly to the floor.

His brows come together in worry as his ears droop a little, and he lifts his left hand awkwardly to settle over his right shoulder- but you lift his hand and kiss his palm, telling him silently how _beautiful_ he is as you gently push him back down, take your sweet time in brushing kisses along the juncture of crystal and skin. His hands tremble a little as they trace over your ears, his touch light and careful- and then firmer when you flick them beneath his fingers, silently protesting the ticklish sensation even as you enjoy it. It isn’t long before he buries them in your hair again, squirming a little as you trail your tongue along soft skin and smooth stone, whimpering your name and arching just a bit beneath you. It is almost criminal that he thinks himself unsightly now, and you _will_ prove otherwise- he has done all of this for you, for _your_ sake, and he is alive to tell the tale despite his best efforts to the contrary, and you won’t ever forget that. You ignore the pressure building within in favor of pleasing him, following the crystal down his side to where it disappears beneath the knee-length trousers he wears beneath his robes, and then teasingly dipping your tongue just beneath his waistband before pushing yourself back up and capturing his mouth in a fiery kiss. He returns it with a passion that finds its match in you, then growls and pushes you up so that he can work at the clasps of your jacket. You help with a soft smile- he is _determined_\- and then let him push it from your shoulders, down your arms, and down to wherever his robe had wound up. Sorting _that_ out will be tomorrow’s problem. You are both barefoot already, which is good, because you certainly don’t want to fight with your boots right now- all that remains is your trousers and his.

He perches astride your thighs this time and seems content to stay there, running his hands over your arms and down your chest, then around and up your back. He kisses you as he traces your scars, mapping them like the constellations in the Ocular, committing them to memory all the same- he breathes your name again, this time with a note of gentle awe, as though he can’t quite believe he really is with you. You lift your hands to frame his face, draw him down for a kiss which he gives eagerly, and thus off-balance you drop back to the mattress with a huff and a laugh. He laughs, too, his voice low and rich- you’ve always found it stunning, listening to him sing is one of your favorite things and always has been. He nips at your mouth, then your jaw, and then it is his turn to explore further with lips and tongue, finding each and every spot that makes you gasp and lingering there… and marking each one, wringing a soft cry from you as he goes. As you thought, the evidence of this night will linger… and you are _fiercely_ glad for it. You take this time to stroke his ears in return, to drag your nails along the base of them and earn a breathy sound in response, to smooth them back with gentle pressure and then to further reach back to pull the tie from his hair. Free from the braid he keeps it in, it falls in soft waves around his shoulders and joins the shorter parts that frame his face- not for the first time, you wish he’d wear it down more often. This serves to distract you from the heat growing within, from the tension coiling inside and threatening to break free, but eventually you take his shoulders and gently tug him upward. Ruby-red eyes darkened to carnelian gaze at you from beneath long lashes, and you kiss him again before letting your hands drift down to his hips. Even though you have had him before, it has been a _long_ while, and so you wait for permission… and he gives it with a gentle smile and a shaky plea.

You rise from the bed and draw him up with you, wrap your arms around him and hold him close. You can feel his heart pounding, can feel him trembling, and you smile to yourself as you slide your hands down his back and stroke over his tail- which, you think, you will _never_ understand how hiding it as he had could be anything but agony. He noses at your jaw, leans up to kiss you again, and you draw your hands around to unlace his trousers and gently push the fabric out of your way. His whimper makes your blood burn all the hotter, and you can’t resist drawing your hands over his hips, drawing your fingers along the edge of his thighs. Remembering what he likes is as easy as remembering your own name, and you catch him in a kiss that steals his breath as you draw your hands inward and carefully cup them around him, and _oh,_ the cry that filters into your mouth makes you shake all over. He is so sweetly eager, so responsive, he mouths at your jaw and struggles with himself as you caress him- and then he remembers that he is in an excellent position to return the favor, and he reaches down swiftly to do so. The pressure vanishes as soon as he has the laces undone, and you sigh softly in relief- then gasp as he wraps his left hand around you. It’s a bit awkward for him, it seems, as he’s right-handed, and you pause in driving him wild to take his right hand and gently bat his left out of the way, pressing it where you’ve wanted it most and gasping softly.

He stares at you, pupils blown wide with desire and shock, and you encourage him by trailing your fingertips over the backs of his fingers, tracing golden veins along crystalline paths- you love him, you _love_ him, no matter _what._ His eyes fall shut and he leans against you, then turns his face to press into your hair and breathes a plea that makes you feel weak. There has always been a marked preference for you both, and you pluck the vial of oil from the table next to the bed before urging him back onto the pillows. Completely in the altogether, both of you, it somehow seems more _real-_ and you grin at him as you uncork the vial. You will prove to him that he is really with you, that _you_ are with _him,_ and you start by drawing slick fingers up his inner thigh. He groans through clenched teeth and spreads his legs wider, and you pause briefly to admire him- he grips his hair with his left hand, the right grips the blankets, flushed and vulnerable and _wanting._ A better invitation has never been given, and it is with true delight that you set about your task. Each roll of his hips tells you that you’re going in the right direction, each whine as you gently nibble at slick skin begs for mercy even as it begs for more, and here you truly do take your time- you won’t risk hurting him, not for this, not for _anything._ You are well aware of your own limitations, and you won’t exceed his. One finger, then two, then three, and he is patient- _barely_\- while you make certain that he’s ready. He is restless now, drawing his legs up further and letting out a shaky breath, and you draw back to give him a moment to recover himself. You don’t want this to end too soon if only because you want him to enjoy it all the more, and so you ignore the clamoring of your body for his and simply swish your tail back and forth as you counsel patience to yourself. He pushes himself up and you back so that you’re the one leaning against the pillows… and then he straddles your hips and looks at you nose to nose, panting against your lips as he slowly, slowly sinks onto you.

It feels like being dropped into a scalding ocean, like being wrapped in lightning and borne ever upward- it is a shock to your system of the _best_ kind, feeling this, and your hands fly to his hips to steady him as his tail lashes behind him. His brow is knit and his kiss-bruised lips are parted, and the sound he makes when he sits all the way back makes you long to hear more _just_ like it. You are still though it’s _extremely_ difficult, your hands firm on his hips, and his lashes flutter as he pants. His eyes open slowly and meet yours, and he leans down to kiss you- then he pushes himself up, shameless and trusting, arching his back and tossing his head back as he does so. You wish you could reach him so you could dip your tongue into the hollow of his throat, but you content yourself instead with taking him in hand. His need is evident in the way he cries out, pushes forward into your grip and back onto your body, and he falls forward to brace himself with his hands as the pleasure builds faster and faster. When his brows come together this time it’s in intense concentration, he grits his teeth and then gasps, his eyes fly open to stare at you in shock- that, _that_ is enough to send you over the edge with him. Your world goes blindingly white in the best way as it shatters around you, as nothing matters in the least except for you and for him, the pounding of your heart and his cry of your name even as his falls from your lips in turn. That it lasted this long is something of a pleasant surprise, but you don’t dwell on it- you simply catch him as he pitches forward, hold him close as the storm abates and the sky clears.

He withdraws after a moment, then shudders and collapses on top of you. You hold him close and smile as he rests his head on your chest, and for a little while you stay just like that- and then he shifts up to kiss you, and he is all you can think of. The kiss breaks, and he smiles softly- with his hair falling over his shoulders, his eyes shining, he looks exactly like the young man you remember. You smile back at him, rest one hand on his back and let the other drift through soft red-white hair, and then he tucks himself against your side and pillows his head on your shoulder just as he had then. Your tails twine together as you relax, and you let yourself slowly come down from the high of it all as he whispers the most beautiful thing you’ve heard- he tells you that he loves you, that his heart and soul are yours, always- and you tell him the same, relishing the way he presses tighter against you and kisses your bare shoulder. Beyond anything, you want to stay with him- and as you smile drowsily to yourself, you decide that perhaps you will, in the end… perhaps, just this once, you will be selfish.

Just this once… just for a moment.


End file.
